


Right Hand Man

by EntreNous



Category: Grease 2 (1982)
Genre: Canon-Typical Songs, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Metafiction, Musicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1624061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Goose is out of step with nearly everyone when he starts attending Rydell Junior College.  But he finds out there is one person who can help.  Goose/Michael.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Hand Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Yuletide 2007 for Joanne. Warning for characters bursting into spontaneous song and/or dance!

 

 

Outside of Swingin' Stanley's Mini Golf, neon light from The Castle Challenge glowed pink as strains of music echoed into the parking lot.

At the Ninth Hole (The Wacky Windmill), a group of junior college students mimed swinging clubs, pivot-turned, did a synchronized series of jazz squares, and then sang out brightly:

> __  
> Tonight we're going to get it done  
>  Tonight, tonight, we're going to get  
>  A hole in one!  
>  (Ba ba ba! Ba ba ba ba ba!) 

The guys lifted the girls onto their shoulders, everyone flung out their right or left arm depending on their side of the formation, and they all shouted out in unison, "Yeah!"

Goose ran up just as everyone broke out of their stances and returned, chattering, to their game.

"Ba ba ba?" he offered hesitantly to a guy wearing a cardigan sweater who was laughing with his friends.

The other guy frowned. "Sorry, but we just finished up. You should start off at the First Hole, though, the Dinosaur Diorama." When Goose turned away, he called, "I hear there are some high school kids who might come by and sing at The Pirate Poopdeck later."

Goose just nodded, and slunk back to his car.

~*~*~

"I just don't get it," Goose told Frenchy the next day.

He had come into the Rydell Junior College Cosmetology Labs Tuesday afternoon to pass the time before his Physiology class by ribbing Frenchy about, well, anything. Her lime green hairdo, for starters. But then her hair reminded him of the fake green at Swingin' Stanley's, and he felt down when he got to remembering how things had gone last night with mini golf. Before he knew it, Frenchy asked him if he was okay, and they got to talking.

"Junior college not what you expected?" Frenchy asked, her expression full of sympathy.

"I didn't expect nothing. I didn't want to come here in the first place," Goose said. "My old man, though, he saw how well I did on those History and English papers senior year, and he said I should try to make something of myself."

"Well, that's good, isn't it? You did better in that last year at Rydell High than you thought you would. And look at you now -- you're a college man, not like the other T-Birds. You could probably get a job in an office filing papers when you have your associate's degree." Frenchy added a drop of liquid to a half-full beaker . "It's supposed to turn a lovely shade of lilac," she muttered. She shook in ten or twelve more drops and winced when the solution started smoking.

"But that's just it," he said. "I didn't write them papers -- Shakespeare did. But my Pop, he thinks I got smart, so he enrolls me here."

Frenchy gave him a confused look. "Shakesp-- Oh, wait, you mean Michael?"

Goose waved a hand. "That's the guy."

"Well, why don't you ask him for some help with your course work? I bet he'd be glad to help you. I got to know Michael last year, and he's now one of my very best friends."

"Nah, I can't." Goose hopped down from the counter, but he didn't seem to be able to make himself walk out the door. "My Pop is working double-shifts to send me here. I got to do it on my own, not pay someone else to write my papers."

"Gosh, Goose, I think it's good that you don't want him to do your work for you. But everyone can use some help sometimes."

"Like now?" He pointed to the solution, which had started to sizzle and send sparks into the air.

"Oh, that can't be good!" she wailed. "I'll fail Permanents II for sure!" When there was a loud bang, Goose and Frenchy ran.

~*~*~

The rest of the week didn't get much better for The Goose.

Wednesday he stopped by Johnny and Paulette's new place. Time was when he though that he and the rest of the T-Birds would spend all their time together after Rydell High: cruising by the drive-in; hanging out at bowling alley; and doing a few blues-infused rock numbers at the diner about how much hotter college girls were than high school girls. But he hadn't seen much of his buddies since graduation.

Wasn't much point thinking about it now that Johnny and Paulette had gotten hitched. Goose had been proud that Johnny had asked him to stand up for him at the wedding. It just went to show how Goose had been Johnny's right hand man all through high school. But now it was tough to find things to say to the new couple, especially since Paulette had a bun in the oven.

When he opened the door into their basement level apartment, they were singing:

> _  
> We'll have the best times, you'll see,  
>  When just us two become three --_

He grinned as he joined them and sang out:

> _  
> With my two best pals and me!_

"Oh, Goose," Paulette said in that breathy voice. She fluttered her acrylic nails at him. "That's awfully sweet, but...we were singing about a different three." She bit her lip and looked at Johnny.

"Huh?" Goose asked.

Johnny cleared his throat, but finished the chorus:

> _  
> It's you and baby for me!_

Goose didn't know where to look. Not at Paulette, who had caught the glint of her wedding ring when she waved, and was now adjusting it on her finger. Not at Johnny, who was wearing the shirt from the garage he worked at instead of his T-Birds leather jacket.

Finally he ended up staring at their chrome kitchen set with the vinyl red seats. "Uh, right. I mean, I should have guessed."

"We were going to sing and imagine some different moments with the baby," Paulette fretted. "Like me holding up cute little booties at a baby shower; us walking a carriage with a big bow tied to it along the sidewalk; Johnny putting the baby's picture up at the body shop; and all of us drifting along in a rowboat at the pond at Rydell Park."

"Yeah, sort of like a montage," Johnny said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Goose tried not to stare. Johnny had always been so tough, so cool, the kind of guy who stood up for his friends in a fight, not the guy who followed a woman around a park or hung pictures of a baby. Sure, it was good that Johnny did the right thing by Paulette, but Johnny wasn't supposed to _like_ it. Watching them now, as Johnny kissed Paulette on the cheek and she batted her fake eyelashes at him, Goose frowned. He always used to think Paulette was pretty dumb. These days he wondered if maybe she was the smart one.

When Goose began inching away, they looked back in his direction.

"How are things with Rhonda?" Johnny asked. He gestured that all of them should sit on the fold-away couch. "You two seemed pretty hot and heavy at graduation." He grinned at Goose like they were supposed to laugh and poke each other in the ribs.

"Will we hear wedding bells this spring?" Paulette asked with her eyes wide as she perched next to Johnny.

"Nah." Goose shifted uncomfortably. "Rhonda's been seeing...Eugene."

"That jerk?" Johnny looked so mad that Goose got warm all over for a moment.

"He got an afternoon show at the local radio station." Goose shrugged. "I guess she figures he could be the guy who gets her on American Bandstand."

"Well, that's not very loyal to the Pink Lady Pledge," Paulette huffed. "It's supposed to be till death do us part, Think Pink!"

"Forget her. You'll get another chick in no time," Johnny said.

"Maybe Goose could give Stephanie a call," Paulette said. Her eyes darted to Johnny.

He grimaced, but then nodded. "Yeah. Call Stephanie. See if she wants to get a soda sometime."

Goose held up both hands. "Wait, isn't Stephanie with Shakespeare?"

"Who?" Paulette asked in confusion.

"You know, the smart guy who ended up in the T-Birds right before graduation?"

Johnny gave a snort. "Whether he's a T-Bird or not, she's not really the kind of girl to stay with a guy like that, you know? Once she heard Michael was headed to Rydell Junior College instead of riding his motorcycle all the time, she couldn't move on quick enough."

"If she didn't think Michael was good enough for her, I don't think she's going to be interested in The Goose, especially now that I'm a college man too," Goose said glumly.

"Yeah, probably not," Johnny agreed. "Ow," he said in surprise when Paulette thwapped him.

"Oh, Goose! You and Michael both go to Rydell Junior College!" Paulette exclaimed. "Maybe he knows some girls for you."

"Maybe. Hey, I should let you get back to -- I should get going," Goose said.

"You could stay for meatloaf," Paulette offered.

"Paulette makes a great meatloaf. Her secret is ketchup," Johnny said fondly.

"All the guys at the garage are so jealous of the meatloaf sandwiches Johnny brings for lunch," Paulette breathed. Johnny patted her hand, and she gave him a small kiss.

"I think I got a paper to write," Goose said as he made his escape.

~*~*~

Thursday was supposed to be bowling night. But Paulette and Johnny would be talking all night about the crib Johnny built, Rhonda and Eugene would be making eyes at each other over at the shoe rental counter, and even Davey would be with Paulette's kid sister Dolores, getting her hotdogs and talking about how she was the only freshman Pink Lady at Rydell High.

So Goose just didn't show. He figured no one would notice.

Friday night, Goose tried not to fall asleep as he made his way through some heavy book his English professor had assigned. After about an hour, he noticed his old man standing in the doorway, his lunch pail in his hand.

"You need help getting the car started?" Goose asked.

"Nah." His Pop grinned at him. "My kid, going to college." He turned and left for his factory shift.

Goose looked out the window and thought about signing a couple of bars about how he was a numbskull who was going to fail out of junior college. But instead he sighed and pried his eyelids open wide so he could keep on reading.

~*~*~

Goose was not looking for Shakespeare when he ran into him at the library on Sunday.

He had gone to find articles for one of his term papers, when suddenly he had to dodge a bevy of co-eds who were dancing around with book carts and singing about finding dirty subjects in the card catalogue. He ducked behind a stack and bumped right into Shakespeare, who was, as it happened, laden down with books about Shakespeare.

After he helped him pick up the armload of books, Goose thought about slipping away. But the other guy recognized him. "Oh, hey -- Goose, right?"

"Hey, Michael," Goose returned after a pause. Good thing he'd had people reminding him all week what Shakespeare's real name was. Of course, it didn't seem like Michael knew _his_ name. But probably he didn't have any pals who were telling him to call The Goose, to ask Goose to have a soda, or to see if Goose could check his papers for him.

"Are you...working at the school?" Michael asked.

For a moment Goose was tempted to answer yes, he was a janitor or a night-guard, something that made sense for a guy like him.

"Nah, I'm a student here," Goose said finally.

"Really? That's great!" Michael beamed at him. "I haven't seen any of the old gang in ages, and here you and I are at the same college."

"Yeah." Goose decided not to mention that it was weird for Michael to call any of them "the old gang" when he hadn't been part of their group for long at all. "Sorry to hear Stephanie dumped you," Goose added.

"Oh, that's all right. I thought she would see that the man of her dreams was the same man that I really am." Michael sighed. "But it turned out that all she wanted was her mystery man, just readily available to her."

"And not dead from being drove off a quarry," Goose observed.

"Exactly. Maybe it could have worked, but I suppose finding out that I intended to keep on with school disenchanted her. It doesn't seem the typical course for these parts."

Goose shrugged. "Even if you ditched college, kept up with the leather pants and the motorcycle stunts, she might have gotten bored with you anyway. That chick always wanted something new. Johnny was top of the heap with us, but she wanted more after a while. Probably she would have found a guy badder than you."

When Michael smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkled. "Perhaps you're right. After all, I'm not actually that bad. Listen, do you want to get a cup of coffee?"

"I could drink a milkshake," Goose admitted.

"Great, great." Michael gestured for Goose to go first.

~*~*~

Frenchy was right about help.

In the six weeks since Goose had met Michael at the library, he had started to feel like he was finally on top of his homework. With Michael to talk to, he had even passed his midterms with points to spare. Michael explained Physiology by talking about how different parts of a guy hurt when he fell of his motorcycle. Michael helped with English by explaining that Pip's life got turned around by a guy who could have been a no-good punk like Balmudo. And Michael took him to a Mexican restaurant that Goose had never seen before a couple of times, so that Goose could meet people to practice Spanish on.

They studied at the library, sure, but they also cruised by the drive-in and hung out at the bowling alley sometimes. The only thing Michael didn't seem to want to do was talk about how much hotter college girls were than high school girls. Goose figured maybe Michael was just getting over how things had ended with Stephanie.

But then they saw Stephanie one night at the diner, sharing a banana split with Mr. Hunter. It had to be pretty bad for a guy to spot his former girl making time with a high school teacher, especially since everyone thought Stephanie had wanted someone cool, not someone who had gone to a four-year college. But when Stephanie and Mr. Hunter left, Michael didn't seem mad at her so much as angry at himself.

"I can't believe how obvious it all seems now. It's like I deliberately picked the most unavailable girl there was on my first day at Rydell High," Michael said one night at the diner.

"Right." Goose poured the rest of his milkshake into his glass.

"I mean, I knew nothing about her, just that she was gorgeous and hard to get," Michael said. "But I had to focus all my energies on her, even ignoring my studies and letting my grades slip to get her attention. Otherwise I wouldn't be at this junior college, trying to prove myself before reapplying elsewhere."

"Yeah." Goose ate another French fry and tried to keep up.

"And then I let everyone think that she broke up with me, when the truth was, I just didn't know what to do with her once I had her, so I said we should see other people."

Goose paused with a French fry midway to his mouth. "Huh?"

"God knows I didn't want to think about it too hard. But honestly, all that leather I wore when I rode around on that motorcycle?" Michael shook his head. "Anyone vaguely familiar with the Freudian concepts we're studying in my Psychology class would have been able to make a guess."

"Wait, wait, wait." Goose pushed his plate aside. "You mean, you had a hot babe like Stephanie Zinone still wanting to be with you, and you told her to get lost?"

"I've been reading a lot of interesting things in my Ancient Greek Civilization class," Michael said. He kept his eyes trained on his uneaten burger. "Things I've been thinking about more now that we spend so much time together."

"Uh huh." Goose hoped maybe if he kept on agreeing, Michael would help him out by telling him exactly what he was talking about.

"I better get back to my aunt and uncle's place," Michael mumbled. He threw a fistful of dollars onto the table and stood.

~*~*~

"I just don't get it," Goose told Frenchy the next day.

"It does seem kind of funny," Frenchy agreed. She combed a conditioner she had mixed up into Goose's hair and then picked up her brush. "He just talked about Stephanie and leather and Freud and Greeks?"

"I feel like he was trying to tell me something, only it was in some kind of code. I tell you, that guy is smart, but he's not so good at explaining himself."

She tipped his head forward and went to work on the back. "I don't know, Goose. Even if the words were strange, he sounds like he was asking for your help somehow."

"Well, he should just ask straight out if he wants my help," Goose said indignantly. "I'm the kind of guy who helps. I'm like the right hand guy! I just ain't had nobody to be the right hand to lately."

She moved around to the front and he shifted on the stool to look her in the eye. "You know, I don't see any of the T-Birds lately. I been spending all my time with Michael. He should feel like he can tell me stuff."

Frenchy reached up and brushed some of his hair off of his forehead. "Maybe it would help if you told him that," she said with a small smile.

~*~*~

"You should tell me what's on your mind," Goose announced after he burst into the fallout shelter where Michael was studying.

Michael blinked up at him. "Er...your hair looks nice."

Goose ran a hand through his hair impatiently. "Thank you. You should tell Frenchy next time you see her. But that's not what I'm here to talk about."

"Look, Goose," Michael started. He waved at Goose to sit down in the extra chair and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I burdened you with all of that nonsense the other night."

"That's part of the problem!" Goose wanted to stand up and pace, but there wasn't much room in the shelter. "You can talk to me about all that Greek crap, on account of how we're best buddies now."

Michael gave him an odd look. "We are?"

"Sure we are," Goose returned. "I didn't make too many friends when I started at junior college, but now I have you. You're kind of like the leader of a new gang I'm in, only we're the only two guys in it."

The edges of Michael's mouth twitched, like he was trying not to smile. "Goose, I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Yeah, well." Goose suddenly felt embarrassed, banging in like that and demanding things. Only Michael didn't seem like he was mad or about to laugh at him.

"I don't want to ask too much of you," Michael said. He hesitated.

"It's like I'm trying to tell you, I'm the guy you can go to," Goose insisted.

"Promise not to hit me afterwards?" Michael asked. He had a funny half-smile on his face.

"Yeah, sure, I won't deck you." Goose wiped his hands on his jeans to get rid of the sudden sweat on his palms.

Michael looked at him. Really looked at him, like he saw Goose there, like there wasn't anyone else he wanted to be in that chair facing him. His eyes were sort of soft the way Frenchy's got sometimes when she talked to Goose, or the way his Pop's were lately when he saw Goose typing his homework. His expression was considering, a little mischievous, the way Johnny's always was when he was about to tell Goose some scheme he'd come up with.

But it was Michael's lips that finally tipped Goose off. His lips were parted, just the way Rhonda's used to get when she wanted Goose to lean over and kiss her, only Michael was the one shifting forward.

There was a jittery feeling in Goose's stomach when he leaned over to meet Michael half-way. But when Michael's lips, soft and warm, touched his mouth, he forgot all about it.

~*~*~

It wasn't completely different being Michael's right hand man, when it came down to it.

Yeah, Michael talked about books more than what was on teevee the night before, and he looked over Goose's midterms to tell him which sections he'd need to study for the final instead of saying they should skip out on classes. But they ate together at the diner, they started up a bowling league with some other guys from the college, and they snuck into movies on the weekend. It was like having a guy who was his closest pal and a girl who was his steady all rolled into one, except Michael was no girl, no matter how pretty Goose privately thought he was.

They even did blues-infused rock numbers at the diner every once in a while. But since the endings weren't about college girls but about things Goose and Michael did when they were alone, they usually did the finales on their own in the back seat of Goose's car.

Maybe they couldn't tell everybody exactly about how things were between the two of them. But the days of Goose arriving too late to get in on musical numbers was over. He and Michael could walk around the Rydell Junior College campus any time they wanted, singing about what great friends they were:

>   
>  __  
> This guy, he's my right hand man  
>  He's my friend until the end  
>  All I know is it's my plan  
>  To be his pal whatever life will send 
> 
>  
> 
> Goose: _We're like The Lone Ranger and Tonto_  
>  Michael: _Or Hyacinthus and Apollo_  
>  Goose: _Batman and Robin, that's us_  
>  Michael: _Or Achilles and Patroclus_
> 
>  
> 
> _This guy, he's my right hand man_  
>  He's my friend until the end  
>  All I know is it's my plan  
>  To be his pal whatever life will send!  
> 

***~* the end *~***

 

 

 


End file.
